


hello as in what have you become

by Aquelon



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Nerd Pacheco gets shelled, Peanuts - Freeform, Please think about the remaining Tacos pitchers, Tasting The Infinite, and of allergic reactions (non-game mechanic), non-maincord appropriate words, oh also there's probably implied possession/mental manipulation too, semi-detailed descriptions of Shelling and its aftermath, they have so much story potential in them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29855826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquelon/pseuds/Aquelon
Summary: Sexton Wheerer and Peanut Bong find out what the Honey Roasted players can do.
Relationships: Sexton Wheerer & Peanut Bong
Kudos: 6





	hello as in what have you become

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Boot Soup by Aesop Rock!
> 
> Please think about the current Tacos pitchers.

Season 12, Day 37. Sexton is pitching in the bottom of the fourth, and so he doesn’t notice the disturbance in the audience as people who are also watching other games start whispering about what just happened in Tokyo.

The crowd goes quieter than usual, ripples of confusion spreading back and forth as fans only half pay attention to the game. Sexton notices that, at least, but there are a lot of things that could cause that. Still concerning-- it’s been a _long_ time since someone died. Sexton starts emotionally preparing for that possibility, but continues to focus on pitching.

Or not, because Justice Spoon hits a ground out almost immediately, ending the inning.

The rest of the game passes with relatively little incident, except for that no one in the stands seems willing to tell any of the players what they’re so nervous about yet. People are giving Peanut Bong and the two Peanuts on the Firefighters a variety of looks that Sexton can’t identify, though.

Valentine Games vaults a couple fences in the top of the eighth and presumably finds something out. She comes back looking very stressed. “Mcdowell,” they say cautiously, “we may want to have a team meeting after the game.”

“Okay?” Mcdowell says.

The Tacos lose the game fairly thoroughly. Mcdowell brings the team together in the changeroom afterwards. “Valentine, what did you find out?”

“It’s bad news.” Valentine clicks on the TV in the changeroom that was probably always there. He scrolls through a couple channels until they find the Feed for the Houston Spies.

In reverse chronological order, the day’s messages read:

“A desolate peanutty wind blows.”

“The sour smell of rancid peanuts on the wind”

and,

“Wyatt Quitter tastes the infinite! Denzel Scott is Shelled!”

The Tacos take a moment to parse that, and then the changeroom erupts into chaos.

“Oh,” Mcdowell says quietly.

“What the FUCK?” Hex barks, not mincing words.

“No,” Sexton gasps, as though that will help at all.

“ _Quitter?_ ” Basilito says.

“Tasted the infinite??” Macy says. Rat squeaks on her shoulder. “Does anyone know what that’s all about?”

Fig goes very quiet, the fidgeting of their leaves the clearest indication of how worrying this is.

“Alright, cool,” Vito says, his disinterested attitude not even beginning to hide the horror in his voice, “but ya know what this probably means? Means all the former PODS can do that.”

“Almost definitely,” Valentine agrees.

Everyone looks at Nutty Bong.

“Oh.” Nutty looks at their hands hesitantly. “Could _I_ do that?”

Sexton takes a half step away from Nutty almost unconsciously, and echoes, “Could _you_ do that?”

The inside of a shell is dark, and silent, and it smells like peanuts and honey and salt and dust and several new forms of allergen, and it’s somehow both infinitely large and far too cramped. Sexton remembers his half a season in a shell all too well, and he’d reckon Quitter remembers what that was like just as well. He’d reckon all of them do.

And now Denzel Scott is _there_.

And if the others are right, almost everyone else who’s been through that can now just _do_ that. There’s no way to know if Quitter knew what they were doing when they did that-- tasted the infinite? What the hell does that mean? Where has he heard that before?-- but Sexton pictures what being Shelled felt like, pictures the meteoric peanut that Shelled Quitter way back in Season 9, and has to consciously avoid taking another step away from Nutty.

The smell of honey always wafting off of them is suddenly impossible to ignore. The much fainter smell of peanuts, equally impossible to ignore, is suddenly making Sexton’s eyes water with his allergies.

“Holy shit, that’s so many former Tacos,” Basilito says.

Hex’s flanks are raised tensely. “You better not do that,” she growls. “What the fuck!”

“Oh, ya totally could,” Vito says. “It’s, like, the laws of physics or whatever. Fucked up.” He still isn’t fully able to hide the fact that he’s not just doing cool with this.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll try not to,” Nutty says.

“You better!” Hex is pacing back and forth like that can do anything.

Mcdowell places one hand gently on Hex’s shoulder. “‘M sure if Nutty has any say in it, he’ll avoid Shelling anyone. Anyone want to have a pizza night?”

Fig nods.

“Oh, definitely,” Macy says.

“Better than staying home alone today,” Basilito says.

“Y-yeah,” says Nutty.

“I’m going to call up the Spies for a while,” Valentine says, somewhat quieter than normal, “but after that, yes please.”

The rest of the Tacos voice their agreement, and so they have a pizza party and sleepover at Mcdowell’s house until the next day. Sexton tries not to avoid Nutty during the party, but it’s hard not to look at them a little bit differently now.

Season 12, Day 56. Sexton is on the sidelines this game, and Basilito ties the game up in the bottom of the ninth.

Sandoval Crossing looks a bit disappointed to leave the mound, presumably because they’re enjoying being out there in the peanut rain. Nutty steps up onto the mound.

If Sexton recalls correctly, the Sunbeam that takes to the plate is Nerd Pacheco. The Sunbeam in line to bat after them, Nagomi Nava, suddenly freezes like a deer caught in the headlights.

Sexton can’t tell what exactly happens, but it looks like a peanut from the sky hits Nutty directly in the face and just keeps going, passing through them like they’re not even there.

The mound erupts in an uncanny light show. Red light and gold light and… eyes and flickering silhouettes… and…

From the shadows of the bench, Sexton hears someone gasp like they’ve just been hit in the stomach-- “the infinite,” they whisper in alarm. He can barely pay attention to that or to anything, though, because the overwhelming reek of salt and honey and rancid peanuts is sending him into a coughing fit. He leans against the surrounding wall of the field to avoid doubling over and still watch what happens.

Red light is erupting in a line from the mound to the plate. Vines-- or maybe tendrils-- or just curving clouds of dust-- rise up from the ground around the plate, and--

Oh no.

There’s a crunch as the peanut shell settles in place around Nerd Pacheco. It balances for just a moment, then flops over sideways.

The Sunbeams are yelling. Nagomi Nava takes to the plate with a truly unnerving glare in Nutty’s direction. On the mound, Nutty collapses to the ground, trying to catch their breath.

Hex and Vito are also yelling, not exactly politely and mostly directed at Nutty. “Way to make us look good!” Vito yells, voice dripping with a mix of sarcasm and panic.

Basilito and Macy’s yelling is less angry and more confused. Rat is squeaking up a storm to mirror Macy’s words. Fig has gone very quiet again, and they’ve inched over to hold Mcdowell’s hand. Mcdowell is also quiet, and was pacing back and forth before Fig grabbed onto his hand; he now seems to be doing deep breathing. Valentine is just staring.

Sexton tries to catch his breath, but every deep breath he takes is another burst of coughing because there’s just so much peanut dust in the air. This is bad, this is really bad. Not the allergic reaction, that will probably pass without so much as the permanent damage that eating a peanut would inflict, but the fact that he still can’t protect anyone from going through what he’s been through. He can’t protect anyone else from getting Shelled, and he can’t protect Nutty from Shelling people, and…

The most he can do is hope that most of the Tacos’ remaining peanut weather games are when he’s pitching. It’s not what he was hoping for before, because of his superallergy, but even the coughing fit that he’s trying to push through isn’t half as bad as the feeling of looking at Nerd Pacheco’s shell sitting there pathetically on the field.

The chaos on the field is showing no signs of dying down, but one of the umpires whistles sharply, cutting through the yelling. “PLAY MUST CONTINUE,” they bark, and the glow behind their mask is a pretty clear sign they mean it.

Everyone quiets down. Sexton finally stops coughing. Nutty stumbles to their feet, looks at the shell, and then quickly looks away from it. A couple of the Sunbeams pitchers pick up the shell carefully and move it to the sidelines. Nagomi Nava straightens up on the plate, focusing on Nutty intensely in a way that distinctly looks hostile.

Nutty holds the ball like they’re not entirely sure what to do with it, and for a long moment there’s still no activity on the field.

“Just finish the game, Nutty,” Mcdowell says, something approximating gently. “We’ll talk afterwards.”

Nutty nods shakily. They spend the rest of the inning barely throwing, about half of their pitches only making it halfway to the plate. Nagomi Nava scores a run for the Sunbeams, breaking the tie, not taking her (many) eyes off of glaring at Nutty for even a second. Mcdowell catches a flyout and a ground out, doing deep breathing exercises the entire time. The Tacos don’t even get on base in the bottom of the tenth, and so the game ends fairly quickly.

They regroup in the changeroom afterwards, and the tension in the team is getting to Sexton’s nerves even more than the horror of what just happened is. Nutty remains quiet the whole way there.

The team meeting is much more stressful than anything else this season has been. It is very clear that Nutty had no control over what they did. It is equally clear that that does not make anyone feel better about it.

Sexton approaches Nutty afterwards. It would be ridiculous to ask how they’re feeling, because Sexton can definitely guess the answer. Probably something similar to how Sexton’s feeling-- a hollow sense of dread and helplessness.

Instead, he says, “There’s a LA where everything is boats, if you want to check it out sometime soon.”

Nutty’s silent for a long time. Then: “Everything?”

“Significantly more things than you might expect,” Sexton says.

“Sure.” Nutty doesn’t sound entirely interested; they’ve got more on their mind. There’s a long pause as they finish putting their equipment back in their locker and slam their locker closed. “What, uh, what was it like in there?”

It is clear that they are not talking about the Boat LA. There’s no way to put this politely or to dampen the impact. “Lonely. Dark. Somehow both too small and too large. It’s not quite thick enough what can’t be heard through, and sometimes you get lucky and can hear the other Shelled folks as well, even if they ain’t close, but on bad days you’re entirely alone.” He doesn’t bother to point out the means of escape or the possibility thereof. Nutty knows as well as Sexton does that Sexton was the only Taco to get out without getting subjugated onto the PODS. “Good days were slightly more common than bad days.”

Nutty looks down. There’s another long silence. “Hex is really upset at me. Everyone’s pretty upset, and like, they probably should be! I thought I’d be able to start making my own life choices now, but…”

“But you didn’t have a choice in what was chosen for you,” Sexton says softly, thinking about birds pulling him back into open air and swarming at his command but not bothering to help any of his friends.

“Yeah,” Nutty says. “I don’t know how to make sense of what I saw there, and I don’t even know if any of it mattered to what happened! I don’t know if it’s going to happen again!” They fidget shyly. “Are… are you upset with me?”

Sexton knows he probably has every right to be some level of upset, but… “You’re my friend.” It’s probably not a _good_ thing that that’s enough for him, but that’s enough for him. “I know if you had any ability not to do that-all, you wouldn’t’ve. I ain’t upset.”

“Thanks,” Nutty says. “I might take you up on that LA trip sometime soon. Not today, though.”

Sexton watches them leave. The most he can hope for is that they, both Shelled players, and all the former Tacos will be okay.

It’s a lot to hope for, and Sexton’s not fully expecting it all to be true, but you don’t survive this many games pitched without having some respect for NaN and Sixpack Dogwalker’s pregame rituals and having a little bit of hope.


End file.
